The Conservatory.
Ifuckedaslinky
Published
08/31/2011
After a night of salacious conversation and heavy drinking, Jane returned home to her loving husband. It was a modest, 2 bedroom, home. The highlight for Jane was the beautiful conservatory that looked out towards the back garden. She'd insisted on covering the floor in stones and leaving the room empty apart from a large bean bag. The empty room was the perfect place for her to relax. And it was in this room that she first went, deciding to rest her perfect derrière on the bean bag while the world stopped trying to tumble dry her. She hadn't put any lights on, afraid the light would make her drunkenness less bearable. She ran her hands slowly through her long golden hair and leaned comfortably into the bag, exhaling some of the post alcohol exhaustion from her lungs.
He pulled the long kitchen knife free and sniffed at the wound, admiring the pungent warmth that filled his nostrils. He tongued the moist blade and then instantly regretted it, he wondered wether black pudding would taste good made from people. His right hand reached into the pocket of the full pair of jeans and pulled out a wallet. There was a few bank notes in there, a picture of someone and a tesco club card. He removed the club card and then put the wallet back, he had 11 tesco club cards now, it really is a popular super market. He went to the drawer that resided within a tasteful, mahogany bedside table. While he sat on the silk covers of a comfortable master bed he fished through various top drawer belongings. Batteries (which he took, they were AAA and he always forgot to buy them), some receipts (no tesco ones though), a leatherman utility tool which looked handy and came with a belt case. There was a lot of other things, but he didn't have any interest in them so he closed the drawer, fastened his new leatherman to the brown belt that held up his baggy jeans and then went to the other side of the bed. Another tasteful bedside table. This one had what he was looking for, a make-up bag. He peered at the contents and was pleased with the variety of product. He headed to the bedroom closet and found a nice dress, which he put on before applying some glittery red lipstick. He was halfway through volumising his eyelashes when he heard the downstairs door open. He wouldn't be able to finish his ritual, but whoever it is might have another clubcard, every cloud...
Jane felt like her head had cleared, so she rose from the bean bag and turned to leave the tranquility of the conservatory. She peered into the dark and thought she could see the silhouette of a woman in the next room. She giggled to herself, it was obviously just her reflection, she must have shut the conservatory door. She reached out into the darkness for the handle. As her hand grasped fresh air, the silhouette headed slowly toward her. Panic set in and stuck her to the ground. The approaching shadow lifted an arm and the lights tore into the terror. In front of her was a plump, bearded man. His fat was overflowing from every opening of her favourite black dress. His lips were a glossy rouge that shimmered in the sudden light. His grey eyes seemed numb to the situation, one bordered by beautiful, voluptuous lashes, the other by a faint disappointment. A brown belt tightened the dress around his hefty midriff and a small case clung to the belt under a heavy looking love handle. In his right hand a tesco clubcard was digging into his palm. His left hand loosely held a kitchen knife dripping red onto the loose stone floor. "What do you want", she barely articulated.
"I wanted to play house with the man upstairs. I was going to be his trophy wife before falling slowly asleep in his strong arms", the mans voice was calm and dramatically high pitched. "Right now, I suppose I'd like to kill you". He lifted the clubcard menacingly and then seemed to realise his mistake and his glistening lips broke into an embarrassed smile. He began to walk toward her. She realised he was blocking the exits with his large frame. She quickly shook off her paralysis and grabbed a stone from between her terribly high getaway shoes and raised it... "Ah, Ah, Ah", the man vocalised while shaking a disapproving clubcard, "people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones". Her arm lowered and the futility of it all dawned on her.
He pulled the long kitchen knife free and sniffed at the wound, admiring the pungent warmth that filled his nostrils. He tongued the moist blade and then instantly regretted it, he wondered wether black pudding would taste good made from people. His right hand reached into the pocket of the full pair of jeans and pulled out a wallet. There was a few bank notes in there, a picture of someone and a tesco club card. He removed the club card and then put the wallet back, he had 11 tesco club cards now, it really is a popular super market. He went to the drawer that resided within a tasteful, mahogany bedside table. While he sat on the silk covers of a comfortable master bed he fished through various top drawer belongings. Batteries (which he took, they were AAA and he always forgot to buy them), some receipts (no tesco ones though), a leatherman utility tool which looked handy and came with a belt case. There was a lot of other things, but he didn't have any interest in them so he closed the drawer, fastened his new leatherman to the brown belt that held up his baggy jeans and then went to the other side of the bed. Another tasteful bedside table. This one had what he was looking for, a make-up bag. He peered at the contents and was pleased with the variety of product. He headed to the bedroom closet and found a nice dress, which he put on before applying some glittery red lipstick. He was halfway through volumising his eyelashes when he heard the downstairs door open. He wouldn't be able to finish his ritual, but whoever it is might have another clubcard, every cloud...
Jane felt like her head had cleared, so she rose from the bean bag and turned to leave the tranquility of the conservatory. She peered into the dark and thought she could see the silhouette of a woman in the next room. She giggled to herself, it was obviously just her reflection, she must have shut the conservatory door. She reached out into the darkness for the handle. As her hand grasped fresh air, the silhouette headed slowly toward her. Panic set in and stuck her to the ground. The approaching shadow lifted an arm and the lights tore into the terror. In front of her was a plump, bearded man. His fat was overflowing from every opening of her favourite black dress. His lips were a glossy rouge that shimmered in the sudden light. His grey eyes seemed numb to the situation, one bordered by beautiful, voluptuous lashes, the other by a faint disappointment. A brown belt tightened the dress around his hefty midriff and a small case clung to the belt under a heavy looking love handle. In his right hand a tesco clubcard was digging into his palm. His left hand loosely held a kitchen knife dripping red onto the loose stone floor. "What do you want", she barely articulated.
"I wanted to play house with the man upstairs. I was going to be his trophy wife before falling slowly asleep in his strong arms", the mans voice was calm and dramatically high pitched. "Right now, I suppose I'd like to kill you". He lifted the clubcard menacingly and then seemed to realise his mistake and his glistening lips broke into an embarrassed smile. He began to walk toward her. She realised he was blocking the exits with his large frame. She quickly shook off her paralysis and grabbed a stone from between her terribly high getaway shoes and raised it... "Ah, Ah, Ah", the man vocalised while shaking a disapproving clubcard, "people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones". Her arm lowered and the futility of it all dawned on her.
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